hi.

It's been a week, so I probably should post something, huh?

I've actually spent all week composing blog posts in my head and then promptly forgetting what I was going to say when I sat down at the computer. I had kid funnies I was going to post, because my kids are pretty funny. Can't remember any of them. sigh.

Life has been a blur this week. I was busy all day long all week long and I'm tired. My kids decided to be really, really loud as soon as they woke up. How can they be so wound up that early in the morning? It wasn't even warm enough that I could chase them outside. It's days like this when I decide our house is just too small. I'd like them to get the idea that Sundays are a quiet day, but it's a hard slog. They really aren't quiet about very much. There is more than one that can't even read quietly. I had to get after Matt for laughing so loudly at a funny in a book that I could hear it on the other end of the house. I love that he laughs, I just don't want it to echo. yikes.

So, anyway, on a positive note, I got a new purse. it's totally cute. I've gotten a ton of compliments on it and everyone keeps asking me if I made it. (not because it looks cheap or homemade, but because it's fabric and I've been known to make purses before.) It's chocolate brown oriental style brocade with a cream flower and branch pattern. I got it at Target for $2.50 in the "dollar spot." I'll see if I can get a picture this week and post it.

I'll also see if I can get a picture of Sarah in her new top. It's a jumper top. Black with white polka dots. She wore it twice last week, guess she likes it.

Also look this week for instructions on how to make a crayon roll. it's a fabric roll, like a jewelry roll that holds 24 crayons. I keep mine in my diaper bag. It's been a life saver on more than one outing.

In Which Amy Does Lots of Walking

This is where I was this morning:
At the Women's Fitness Celebration. I didn't hear the announcement about how many participants they had this year. Last year they topped 15 thousand; this year the highest race number I saw was 14,868 or something like that. There could have been more. The photo above is from about the middle of the block. There's more behind me, and the two blocks to the side are pretty packed as well. That makes three city blocks full of women. Archie Bunker's second worst nightmare. ;)
This was my fourth year participating. I skipped the year I had Libby. It was just too close to her birth to go. I love being at the Celebration. I go with Steve's family. Steve's sister organizes a team for us and it's fun to be there with them. We had a good time but we were tired. This year we parked close to the finish line and walked up to the start, so we already had half a mile on our feet before we even started. Then we walked the 5k (under an hour including a potty break. go me.) Then we walked back to the car. Then we went and walked the mall. (Which was totally worth it because I snapped up a huge bargain at Pottery Barn. The only way I can shop at Pottery Barn.) I estimate we walked five miles by the end of the day.
While we walked back to the car the TV station that helps sponsor the walk was putting together with the women sticking around at the stage a video invitation to Oprah to come next year. It's was so funny to hear the news anchor instructing the women in multiple takes and getting them to cheer loudly each time. (It wasn't hard.) "Oprah, what do you celebrate?" we heard behind us as we left the park. It would be cool if she responded. After all, it's just the sort of thing that she eats up for her show. It's women. It's a charity (they give to a different women's charity every year.) It's encouraging fitness. Friends and family walk together so you get all sorts of heartwarming "three generation" stories. And the clincher is it takes place while she's filming her next season. How could it miss?
Maybe next year instead of getting a shot of Jared the Subway guy:.
I could have a shot of Oprah (hey, maybe she'll bring Gayle.) I'm sure it will be a long telephoto shot. I really doubt I would have the desire to fight the lines waiting for her autograph while pushing a stroller. As you can see, I didn't fight the line for Jared either.

Another Stocking Down

This one is Matthew's (of course.) It took me several hundred hours and months of work, but, dang it, it's done! Now I only have two left. Libby's I hope to have done by Christmas, but Steve's I'm not going to even try to finish before next year. I pawned mine off on my mom. My mommy loves me, but more importantly, she loves to cross stitch.

Sigh. I'm so over cross stitch. I most definitely bit off more than I could chew with this project.

First Days

School started this week. We had three first days of school. Monday was Joshua and Rilla. Aren't they cute? Rilla is wearing her new outfit from Aunt Cathy. Cathy, aren't the shoes totally perfect? We do a group shot in front of the tree every year. When we started this, Rilla was the cute little toddler.

This is Matt from this morning. He was so excited. He was up and dressed with his back pack on by 6:20 this morning. He came in to our room to give me a hug and tell me goodbye. cracked me up. We made him wait until 8 to take him. He wasn't a bit nervous; he just sat right down and started coloring the picture his teacher had for him.

My kids are all weird. They were all up at 6 this morning. Since our room is right by the bathroom, I didn't get much sleep from that point on. Libby did though. that girl sleeps like a rock. The girls can turn on the light and get dressed and visit all they want and Libby doesn't even stir. This will be nice in the coming weeks. Maybe I'll be able to go back to sleep after the kids leave. Probably not, but at this point I'm willing to think positively.

Excuses, Excuses

Why haven't I been updating my blog? Because I'm freaking stressed. I mean that freaking literally, by the way.

A little over two weeks ago we got a check in the mail from the mortgage company. A nice check that was more than our usual payment amount. I deposited it in the bank and then didn't touch it because I knew it was a mistake or the evidence of some huge mess up on the part of the mortgage company.

Three days later we got a nasty gram from the mortgage company. Your insurance is canceled! You can't not have insurance! We will buy really expensive, really lousy insurance for you! If you have a disaster this insurance will only pay off the mortgage and not actually replace anything in your home or even rebuild the home! You are bad! You will now have to pay through the nose! bwhaaaahaaaa! OK, not the last thing but it felt like it.

This is when I started freaking. I called the insurance company. Why yes, we don't have insurance. We haven't had insurance since last freaking OCTOBER. Wanna know why we didn't have insurance? BECAUSE THE IDIOTS AT THE MORTGAGE COMPANY DIDN'T PAY IT! sorry. breathing . . . OK. anyway, yeah, they didn't pay it. not at all. They just sent us an escrow "refund" ten months later and called it good.

It was not good.

I called the mortgage company. They proceeded to LIE to me. oh, they paid! They paid in November! and then the evil insurance company kept the money and didn't send it back! gasp! It's all the insurance company's fault! Mortgage company was good they did everything right and they feed the homeless and pet cute puppies. Seeing as how I got a late notice from the county for unpaid taxes last June, I didn't believe the story. I did however make arrangements for our new insurance to be billed to our escrow account directly and the mortgage company was happy to pay for overnight shipping of the check. Wasn't that nice of them?

I called the insurance company back and the lovely agent who's represented us in some way since we got married and is as honest as can be and runs a tight ship was happy to come out and assess our property. She called us back and said if we wanted "preferred rates" we would need to fix up a few things. Simple little things, like redo the roof, cover all the bare wood, get Britney Spears to act sane, etc.

So we redid the part of the roof that was bad. I'm still tired from that. Steve rebuilt the back steps and I painted them. We did a patch job with stucco (from a spot where we had taken out a window). I ran around for a week buying crap from Home Depot and spending several hours a day working on projects on the outside of the house. I am tired.

Today insurance lady came back to write up the policy. She walked around the house and admired all my hard work. She told me the story of how the mortgage company called her when they discovered their mistake in July (even though they had been sent notification of the problem at least twice at the time of the cancelation) trying to cover their own butt by asking her to reinstate our policy without telling us it had ever been canceled. Then she told me that she couldn't give us preferred rates after all because our roof has a sag in it.

After two weeks of stress and headache and expense I don't care. I just don't care. We have insurance. Our mortgage company sucks. I'm done with the whole mess anyway.

Every Once In a While I Turn Type A

I've been wanting to organize the girls hair stuff for ages, but I finally found the right container. The ponytail holders are on the top level, barrettes on the second, and the base is saved for bulky items like hair bands and claw clips. The container is a basic two tray tackle box from Walmart, I believe the brand is FlamBeau, but it's a classic design that would be easy to find anywhere. I paid less than $8 for this one. Seeing everything all organized actually makes me want to go out and get more now.

Funny Libby calls the ponytail holders in the top "berries" and carries them around like a toy once they fall out of her hair. She's quite attached to them.

Just a bit Jealous

I want to be my sister today. Today Cathy is helping Karen Burniston work a booth at a scrapbooking convention. That sounds so much more fun than my day and not just because Karen is totally funny on her blog and therefore is probably funny in person or that Cathy is getting paid to do it. Actually I think I'd like to just be there with both of them because Cathy is cool and funny too.

No, I'm jealous because I have had an insane week and it's not over yet. My list today looks like this:
wake up
do laundry
get kids dressed
feed kids
walk three miles (I have a walking buddy, it makes it easier)
go school supply shopping (I took four kids. yes it was awful.)
register Matt for school
call the insurance agent
paint the parts of the siding that have peeling paint (There's quite a bit)
make dinner
get kids ready for bed
fold laundry
finish cross stitch stocking
stay sane

See. It would be so much more fun to be with Cathy and Karen today. I've got good shoes; I would welcome the chance to stand on my feet for eight hours at this point.

I should really keep my mouth shut.

I was not a nice person at the grocery store today. I ran to the corner store for a couple of things and had to stand in a long line because only one cashier was working. Some friends of the young man in front of me came in and struck up a conversation. They were both wearing full bike leathers and somehow this made the young man proudly proclaim: "I bought purple chaps!" and apparently they were for horse riding.

"what goes with purple chaps?" the biker woman teased him.

I couldn't keep my mouth shut. "A large floral bouquet for the horses rear end?" I said quietly, but loud enough to be be heard. This earned me a glare from the young man.

The teasing continued for another couple of minutes and I stayed out of it until the biker pair teased their friend about how long it was taking him to write a check.

"I'm not allowed to have a credit card." he said.

"well, that's probably a good idea." his friend responded. "a lot of young people your age have way too much credit anyway."

He was disgusted with such a sentiment. "I wouldn't get in trouble. What am I going to buy anyway?"

"Purple chaps." The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

I'm really quite surprised he didn't key my car.

Back to School

We start school this month. I am slightly sad about this because we have had a good summer. I am however, mostly happy because I prefer our school schedule. Things seem to go more smoothly and we get more accomplished.

I took the girls shopping this past Friday for clothes. This was the first year Sarah could shop at the teen stores. She seemed a bit bewildered by the process. We gave her an armload of clothes to try on and she still hasn't worked out the whole try on an outfit at a time to save time. She kept changing shirts without ever trying on the pants or trying on a pair of pants in the same shirt she showed us last time. We caught a great sale at Aeropostle so there was a lot to try on. Good thing too, otherwise she would have walked out of that store with maybe one t-shirt. With the sale, the prices were better than I've seen at Target. I was even able to buy her a cropped jacket.

Now Rilla understands the trying on process instinctively. She loves clothes. Aunt Cathy treated the girls to a little something at Limited Too. Rilla went through the store gushing about everything while I followed behind blanching at the price tags. Cathy is my hero. I had only planned to buy one cheap T on clearance helped to be affordable with a $5 gift card (the only reason I was even in that store. Those prices are ridiculous!) Now I have Too Bucks that I have no clue what to do with because I'm not spending $20 on a size 6 t-shirt.

The boys were much easier. $9 jeans. get ones that fit. we were done in 45 minutes.

I called it.

Two years ago, I was called to work in the Young Women's organization at church. I was the Sunday teacher for the 12-13 year old girls. When I was called, Steve expressed how cool it would be when Sarah was 12 and I could be her teacher. I laughed and told him that no one keeps jobs that long in our ward.

I've never been so sad to be right. My ward released me one week after Sarah turned 12.

Usually, by the time the release comes, I'm about 3 months into being completely ready for it. This time I just kept loving the calling more. I can't see that happening with a calling again for awhile.

The nursery leaders have been in awhile. It's been a whole five years since I was a nursery leader; they are going to throw off my averages if I don't get called in there again.

In Which Amy Lectures

I have a rant for today. You can skip it if you like. This news story started me on it this morning: Mother cuts off 61 year old son's allowance. It got me thinking about how people put off marriage longer and longer these days. About 20 somethings who think their 20s are for playing around and getting drunk and they'll get serious once they hit 30 and then they hit 30 and can't stay married because their spouse wants them to actually be a grown up. About all the teenagers who are less responsible than I expect an eight year old to be.

Helicopter parenting, that's what's doing this. We have parents who can't let go and want to solve their kids' every problem and they end up raising kids who can't solve any problems at all, kids who are perpetually kids because they've never been given any responsibility.

Pain and responsibility make grown ups. That's basically all their is to it. Stress matures us. If we spend all our time making sure our children are never stressed, never in pain, they won't grow up. You'll find yourself having to do "tough love" on a 39 year old child who still thinks you owe them some kind of support.

Cutting the apron strings is not an abrupt action, or it shouldn't be anyway. Apron strings should be slowly left to fray and tear until all you have left is the last thread. If you desperately repair and rebuild every tear, there will come a day when you have to slash your child away from you and that wound will bleed you dry.

Sarah recently went on a handcart trek with our church youth group. She left the day of her twelfth birthday when she was still emotionally very much an eleven year old. She came back a full teenager. She stood there in front of me last Saturday night, covered in red dust, her hair barely combed, tired, but poised. She grew so much and it hit me within the first five minutes of our conversation. We could have spared her pain by keeping her home or insisting that we went with her to hold her hand and ease her through the experience. She would still be eleven then no matter what the calendar says.

Pain is growth. Imagine how shallow you would be if you had never experienced stress or hard times. Do you want your child to be that?

Just call me Elphaba

Because I'm melting. July and August are always hard months for me. I hate being hot. I can't handle heat well, so living in a house without real air conditioning in a desert is probably not the best situation for me, especially with triple digit temperatures.

I need to find something to do today that involves air conditioning. This may mean taking four kids to the store with no intention of buying them toys. This is how desperate I am.

I love being right

How was I right? I had one, only one, real prediction for Harry Potter 7. I was right. A lot of people told my I was crazy for believing it because it couldn't be possible. Heck, even a Muggle.net editor (whom I met in line at Borders while waiting in line for my number) didn't buy it. That's ok because I was right. neener neener.

Yes, I'm an HP nerd. That's what you call yourself when you plan a family vacation around an HP book release. We were in Vancouver, WA last week visiting my sister and her family. The trip finale was a Harry Potter Day. Rebecca and I put together a Day at Hogwarts Party for all the kids Friday afternoon. We had the practical portions of Hogwarts final exams in Herbology (they had to identify local plants) Potions (they mixed vinegar and soda but we added a few things and gave all the ingredients magic names) and Care of Magical Creatures (where they had to do a hunt for magical animals and name each one.) For the last one, we had Steve direct the hunt and then give hot/cold clues for how to find the last animal, a thestral, which only he would be able to see in Harry's world. (there are drawbacks to working geriatric PT, and one of those is seeing death first hand.) After the final exams, we had an End of Term Feast. We thought about calling it "start of term feast" but with the book release being the last one, having it be the end of term was the only logical choice. If anyone wants my recipe for canary creams, let me know. ;)

I'll have pictures of our vacation up later. I didn't get my camera out on Friday at all so no pictures of the HP party, darn it. We do have some fun ones from Cannon Beach though.

My new alarm clock

is a piano. It was moved in Wednesday morning and for the last two mornings, I've been woken by children playing it. They don't just pound, thank goodness, they've found Sarah's beginner books and are trying to teach themselves to play. They are actually pretty good at that.

The piano used to belong to my mother. It's the piano I grew up with. My parents got it so they could have kids who play piano and they ended up with one daughter out of seven children who play competently enough to want a piano as an adult. That daughter isn't me. That daughter got her own piano ages ago. I lucked out having musical children. My mom felt sorry for Sarah learning to play on an electric keyboard and decided that her piano was just collecting dust so she offered it to us. We were happy to take it just as soon as we had space for it.

We needed quite a bit of space, actually. This is not a modern low slung upright. This is an Upright built in 1900, which means it's very tall and wider than a modern one. It's got lovely carved wood all over the place and the wood has aged to a mellow dark color. There's one broken key and it needs tuned quite badly. However, it was free, and it's pretty. I'm very glad to have it.

Thanks, mom.

always do the test strip

My hair is brassier than a marching band. ugh. I can't win. Either I pay through the nose for hair color, I live with the hair of a 45 year old, or I walk around like an advertisement for John Philips Sousa.

My plan is to not leave the house for a week, and then use temporary color until I can use permanent and get this ugly color gone. Either that or just cut my hair to match Steve's. The longer couples are married, the more they look alike, right?

You're going to love me today

I really don't have anything to say today, so I'm going to post a recipe that everybody asks me for. It's not my recipe, but I make it often. Yes, it's a cookie. This stuff is so good, I actually ran across a woman who seems to be making a living selling them over the internet. You can choose milk or dark chocolate and pay her an astronomical sum for six cookies. Granted, these are expensive to make, but not that expensive. Plan on a pan costing you just over $5, depending on the price of butter in your area. The measurements are a bit strange because they were converted from metric, so there's lots of "generous" in the recipe. Don't worry about it. It's ok for the measurements to be a bit inexact; this recipe has the latitude for it. The original recipe calls for golden superfine sugar, but since that's pretty impossible to find in the middle of nowhere, I substitute brown sugar with very good results.

Chocolate Carmel Shortbread (aka Twix cookies):
1 cup butter
generous 2 cups flour
generous 1/2 cup light brown sugar
12 oz chocolate, either milk or dark depending on your taste

caramel:
3/4 c butter
generous 1/2 cup light brown sugar
3 T light corn syrup
1 can (14oz) sweetened condensed milk

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. If you want, line the bottom of a 9x13 pan with parchment paper. (I never do. it just protects your pan from the knife and makes it slightly easier to get the cookies out.) Process the sugar, butter, and flour in a food processor until it starts to bind together. (stand mixer will work fine) Press into the prepared pan and level the top. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until golden.

while the crust is baking, make the caramel. Place the caramel ingredients in a heavy bottomed pan. Heat gently until the sugar has melted (I use medium heat.) Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 6-8 minutes, stirring, until very thick. Pour over shortbread and let chill in the refrigerator for 2 hours or until firm.

Melt the chocolate and let cool, then spread over the caramel. Let chill in the refrigerator for 2 hours, or until set. These are easier to cut if they are at room temperature, so you can let them sit out for a bit before you cut them. Once the chocolate is set, they don't really need to be refrigerated any more. Be sure to cut them into small pieces because it's a very rich cookie. I usually do 42 (6x8) small cookies.

If you didn't get the phone joke:

I present . . . Ma na me na, from the Muppet Show:

click the arrow twice to get it to play.

Where's my award?

For mother of the year.

I've been trying to potty train Libby lately, in my own not so into this way. I hate all the laundry that happens with potty training. Those first few weeks, when there's never a successful trip for days and days, there's a lot. So, I just put my kid in underwear and skip the pants. (Keep the shirts, those usually aren't affected.) This means that Libby thinks pants don't go with underwear.

The other day we had someone coming over but I didn't want to stop the potty training and go back to pullups. I tried to put pants over the panties and she had a massive breakdown. I tried hiding the panties in the pants and that only worked for one clothes change. She wanted the pants but not the underwear. After the third change, I gave in.

That's right. I let my two year old go comando. Can I have my award now?

Doesn't it just figure?

Just when I was really getting into my exercise routine, the school district decided to redo the track. It does need it. It's over 20 years old now and the rubber is pretty packed down, so I totally understand them doing it. In the meantime though, my routine is screwed up. Matt isn't big enough to keep up on the streets and Rilla isn't ready to walk four miles. I'm not quite ready to leave Sarah in charge during the day for longer than half an hour or so.

There is another track in the area, but last time I was there the bleachers had boards with rusty nails under it and I couldn't keep the kids out. Not exactly the safest play environment. We'll see. maybe they cleaned up. I will probably try it this week to see.

Anyway, I'm just venting. It's annoying. But there you go. I hope the track construction goes quickly. I'm sure it will be really nice when it's done and after I've managed to gain back the five pounds I've lost.

Doing the Obvious Joke

Yesterday I bought a new cordless phone system. The system part means there were three handsets. It's a pretty cool phone with some cool features and I got it for $40 on clearance. (I know! good deal, huh?)

Our favorite feature is the intercom. It's the sort of thing I always felt phones should be able to do. Ever since I was a little girl, I've believed you should be able to talk to the person on the other phone in the same house. It's just an obvious thing that apparently the phone people didn't agree with (or couldn't do) until these multiple handset systems.

So naturally, now that we have an "intercom," we're totally playing with it. The kids begged to play with it and they begged me to call them for dinner by calling the family room phone, which is a perfectly naturally request since I called them to lunch that way. Joshua even felt I should announce bedtime through the phones even though everyone had already been informed it was bedtime.

Steve, however, had to play the obvious joke. The first thing he did when he learned about the intercom feature was to call the basement phone. Sarah answered.

"Ma-na-me-na" said Steve and he hung up.

We watched way too much Muppet Show on Sunday.

Apparently, I'm Scary

Steve just called me from work to ask a question on behalf of one of his patients. She wanted to know which book Anne Shirley got married in. I, of course, had the answer to that. I could also answer which book she got engaged during and generally spouted my Anne knowledge to show off a bit. (I named a daughter Marilla, who was not named after Marilla Cuthbert, but rather Anne's daughter Marilla who doesn't appear until book 6. I know a bit about the subject.)

"that's just scary," he responded.

"Oh really? What Styx album had "Lady" on it?"

"ummmmmmm . . . ."

"I'm not buying it. You know. Who sang lead? What year was it released?"

"1975 . . . But it's not the same."

It's exactly the same. We're all scary about our passions.

(half) Moved In

To the basement that is. We got the couch and entertainment center moved down Saturday and half my craft mess was moved down today. The other half is giving me raspberries and daring me to do something with it. Since it's 12:30 in the morning, I think I'll pass for now.

And that's one of the stinky parts about having depression. I'm exhausted all the time. I mean I could take a nap anytime anywhere exhausted, but I can't sleep at night. I will be falling asleep on the couch at nine thirty, go to bed at ten, and lay awake for the next two to three hours. It sucks, to put it delicately. (If you don't find that delicate, you haven't had insomnia.)

That's why I'm up. Insomnia is sitting in my brain blowing horns and playing rap music (the kind that has themes of guilt and stress and is only found in an insomniacs brain.) It keeps making to do lists for me that involve things like becoming a successful stock photographer, tearing down full walls in my house, and winning the lottery (which I never play but Insomnia doesn't seem to know this.) Insomnia is a busy body with no sense of timing. (This makes for very bad rap music, by the way.)

I'm trying to get my craft mess to blow raspberries at Insomnia in the hopes that they will fight it out. Insomnia is a tough customer but it's a baby compared to Craft Mess, a towering behemoth capable of standing up to Logic and Budget without even flinching. Once the swinging starts, it's only a matter of time. I'm hoping for a KO in the first round.

Always Check Your Lids

I finally got around to painting baseboard yesterday afternoon. I planned on doing another coat, so I left the paint outside next to the boards. It was a completely full gallon of paint when I started the project.

Before dinner, things got a bit hairy while I finished up dinner and shooed my scout boys out the door to their pack meeting. Steve and Josh were about to leave when Joshua pokes his head in the door to tell me that Libby is outside. Lovely. Someone had left the back door open and she had escaped. I sent Sarah out to supervise her until dinner. Libby wasn't in the backyard; she was out front. I ran out to get her myself and discovered what she had been up to.

Libby was "helping."

She found a paintbrush and went outside to paint baseboard for me. Three or four sticks had fresh paint slopped onto the ends and the paint can had been tipped over and the lid knocked free. Half a gallon of paint was dumped into the grass. It was at this point that I started to worry about what she looked like.

Covered in paint is what she looked like. It was on her hands, her feet, her shirt . . . and on her best jeans. the adorable ones with the embroidery on the right leg. They are ruined, of course.

I feel so "helped."

The better way to avoid work

Steve asked me to paint baseboard today. I did this instead:

One Step Closer

We laid the carpet in the basement last night. Steve did a great job. I just sat around and handed him his knife or rolled the carpet stretcher along the wall when it got stuck. I'm so helpful. But as I said, we laid carpet last night, because I'm all for glomming onto someone else's coattails if it means I get a bit of credit. Oh and I told him what to do all the time even though he's done this several times before and I have never even watched someone do it.

I know I've said this before, but I bet you are all just sitting back wishing you could remodel with me. I've decided to make Steve a bracelet that says "WWAD," (that's What Would Amy Do, for those who aren't following my entries) just to help with my nagging campaign.

The furniture gets moved down Thursday when Steve's band shows up for rehearsal (they usually don't bring drums, thank goodness.) I mentioned that he might want to call and warn his buddies that they'll be hauling furniture for the first 15 minutes of rehearsal, but I think he's just going to surprise them with the good news. Isn't he a nice friend?

How to blow an afternoon

Take up digital scrapbooking. My first version of this layout (very similar) totally disappeared from Photoshop. All the other files I had opened stayed just fine, but the layout just went kablooey. I didn't think it was that horrible but apparently PS felt differently.



Here's my afternoon waster in full living color:



I will probably do this again, despite the frustration of losing work, because my scrapbook desk is buried right now and I've been missing scrappping.

Photographic Proof of my Insanity

Friday night, I realized that I had just hours to complete the family room project before Steve came home, so in the midst of my panic, I invited Sarah to help. Joshua overheard me ask her; Rilla overheard him ask me if he could help; Matt overheard Rilla getting excited about painting; Libby just followed us down without asking. I ended up with all five children excited to paint. I was sunk. There was no getting out of it at that point, so I just started handing out rollers. I didn't have enough for Libby to have one (and I think it says something about my organizational skills that I had six roller handles when usually only two of us paint. I tend to overbuy, I think.) Libby was not happy with the idea of not painting, so I found a paintbrush for her to use.

when we were all done their feet all looked like this. I was only able to grab a shot of Matt's because they were quick to clean up.



I also discovered that Libby likes showers. When you are this covered in paint, a bath just doesn't work.

The room actually looks pretty good and they managed to get less than half a gallon on the floor. And they got to surprise their daddy with their paint job the next morning because I was a stinker and evaded the question when he came home that night. (He asked if I had gotten any painting done that evening. I said I was too tired to paint after I got the kids to bed. I'm so clever.)

So room is painted. We are finishing up electrical and then the carpet will go down. I'm thinking that we'll be completely done by the end of Memorial day. woohoo!

My New Superhero Handle . . .

is Avoidance Girl.

Before Steve left town, I promised him I would finish painting the family room. I know, I know. It was a lot to promise, but the faster that got done, the faster the room would get finished. It's obviously something I can do myself, so why not?

All good in theory, of course. In practice, I seem to find every excuse to not start painting. I can't paint during the day because the little ones will make a mess with it. I can't paint at night because I'm too tired; I'll do it tomorrow; I've got something else I need to do right now, etc.

In the meantime, I've managed to find all sorts of other projects this week. Yesterday I mowed the lawn. It needed it badly; Steve's been so busy lately on the basement that we've become "those" neighbors. The ones that get everyone else on the block looking up city ordinances on grass length. (Luckily, we live in the sort of town that doesn't have city ordinances on lawn maintenance.) However, I haven't mowed a lawn since I was 18 and left for college. It was my job during my teenage years to mow my parents abnormally large lawn with a non-self propelled lawn mower with a non starting gremlin residing in the gas tank. I hate mowing lawns; Steve likes it. The division of labor was obvious. Yesterday, though, in the face of my unpainted family room, I found myself with the itch to just get it done.

I sent my children to a neighbor's house to play (I have this thing about young children being anywhere near a running lawn mower.) The lawn mower was retrieved and I pushed it around front. I pulled the cord. Nothing. I pulled again. Nothing. I pulled the stupid cord on our "one pull start" lawn mower for nearly five minutes and couldn't start it. I called my husband and ranted at him via voice mail. (And he was glad his phone was off, I'm sure.) I called my neighbor to whine, and being the totally awesome, giving person she is, she offered the use of theirs.

She pushed it down to my yard, where I begged her to start it for me, because I truly believe lawn mowers hate me. (If you had had to mow lawns with my father's Frankenstein creation of a lawn mower, hobbled together from three different mowers to create one that works, you would have a complex too.) My neighbor leaned over the front and said, " it's got a priming button. you have to push it three times and then it will start."

Yes, folks, my lawn mower has a priming button, too. There was a two second delay while my brain processed the idea of a button before I made the connection. I did blush.

Anyway, yesterday I mowed the lawn. Today I froze 10lbs of carrots. I also brought over 10 wheelbarrows of gravel from the neighbors' yard to mulch the flower beds. Not something that needed done this week, of course, but it worked to avoid the basement. Cool neighbor did another 10, so we've about got it done.

This evening, when I swore to myself I would at least get to the family room ceiling, I fixed the zipper on my new (Craigslist) couch. I do love the couch, but it had a broken zipper. I'm glad it did, actually. The owner had it listed for two weeks and no one was even remotely interested because of the broken zipper. I paid $40 for a beautiful, tan couch with 25% down filled cushions. It's got a very up to date shape to it, unusual for Craigslist, the land of broken down, corduroy pillow backs. About a week after we got it home, I inspected the cushion and discovered the zipper wasn't really broken. It was just missing the pull, so I bought a cheap, metal zipper at Walmart in the right gauge that I could canabalize. This evening I did a little cover surgery, slipping the new pull on and sewing the popped seams back together so it wouldn't happen again. It looks fabulous and I'm feeling especially clever.

I'm thinking tomorrow I can do a complete wardrobe switch out for summer for all the kids. Finish the other 10lbs of carrots, finish leveling out the gravel in the flowerbeds, wash 6 loads of laundry, completely clean the house, cut off and hem the jeans with the holes in the knees . . . .

What? Family room? What family room?

Bedlam in Fact

Where have I been? Going crazy! Steve left early Monday morning for a week long conference in Kentucky. Why Kentucky? Because the home offices for his company are there. The airport he finally flew into was so small that his plane was slightly larger than a Cessna. The in flight meal consisted of milk shakes. The attendants poured the milk and then just handed the glasses to the passengers. The turbulence did the rest. It was so small, Steve didn't even use a standard airport gate when he transferred to that plane. He ended up on the tarmac using one of those ramp stairs things. I forgot to ask him if he remembered to wave like the president from the top.

So anyway, he gets home tomorrow. at midnight. You may pray for me.

A brief moment of pride

this evening, Rilla had a concert. They last about 30 minutes and the room is just packed with people. If you show up any later than 15 minutes before the performance, you stand. My kids actually behaved the whole time. I did have an issue with Joshua and his attitude, and a couple of moments of Libby getting restless, but over all, they were good kids. It was so nice. I often dread these things because I hate being the mom of the distracting, rude kids. We've tried hard to get them to behave and it might actually be sinking in.

The second part of the evening, Steve had a scout dinner he needed to be to (he was the entertainment) and I was invited as well. I ran the kids home and went back to the school for the dinner. When we got home just a little over an hour later, every single kid was in bed and in their pj's. They had read to each other out of the book we are doing our bedtime reading out of as well. whew. I had visions of them racing through the living room fighting like cats and dogs and Libby outside digging in the dirt unsupervised. Nope. In bed. Good kids.

We might be near the end of our hired babysitter days. That's a good feeling. It sounds terrible, but it's like a weight has been lifted. It means a bit more independence for me. More date nights too where we actually leave the house. ;) I'm very much looking forward to the years of free babysitting.

If I had a red carpet to walk down

I'd want to wear this: Shades of Pink. (with sleeves of course)

That is all.

Breather

We've been working on the basement all week, every single evening until nearly midnight. It's an interesting process this remodeling. We sit in a house for five years with very little work done on it, then all of the sudden we blast out a room in a couple of months. It will be completely done before the end of the month, including mouldings.

If I weren't so tired, I'd be looking forward to it. I'm typing this while lolled out on the new couch. It's shoved up between the computer desk and my scrap desk upstairs, patiently waiting for carpet in the basement. Couches are patient like that. Their whole existence is so people can relax.

We started texturing last night. We would have finished texturing, but we ran out of dry wall mud. We are always running out of mud. I think there are mud gnomes that steal it at night. If I can manage to stand up straight and lift my arms, we'll primer tonight. Then Thursday we're going to paint. Then we get to look at an almost finished room while we figure out where the heck to get carpet (and pad) for a measly 1.60 a square foot. yeah, I know. we're dreaming, but I'm trying not to let my fantasies blow up until I've been shopping.

Catch some sleep for me, please. If you can manage it, make it a totally wasteful afternoon nap.

Bad Blogger

so yeah, I get you all used to frequent updates again and then I disappear. it's all part of my master plan. Don't ask what that is because I'm still trying to figure out what master plan includes sporadic blog updates. (and somehow this master plan also includes not noticing the spell check feature on Blogger for months.)

We've been working on the basement lately. It's been an interesting process and slower than we (well I) expected. I wanted my family room by the end of March. I may get it by the middle of May. We're mudding and taping drywall now.

Mudding drywall is an interesting thing. I've spent much time watching home remodel shows. I love those. Tommy Silva, the contractor from This Old House, can handle a mudding knife. Of course, my new motto for home remodeling is "WWTD?" (what would Tommy do?) It is not in fact "WWSD?" ("what would Steve do?") which annoys Steve somewhat because he does not memorize Tommy's methods and I have to call him on his improper technique. Even though Steve's mudding is very far from Tommy's, we still manage to mud the same room a the same time. My tongue has visible teeth marks in it by the time we are done with one layer, but we are still married, so I count that as a roaring success. Today is layers number two and three and hopefully texture (sometime before midnight but I'm not counting on it.)

I already have a couch for the room (gotta love Craigslist) and I was promised carpet for Mother's Day. I'll post pictures when we're done. Steve just left to run some errands, so I need to get to the basement and get as much mudding done as possible while he's gone so it can be done right. (don't you wish you could remodel a house with me?)

After that, I'll be making a bracelet with WWTD on it. Let me know if you want one too.

Distracting You With Good Links

So, yeah, I haven't been so hot at updating. I'm slipping back into my old habits, it seems. I still don't have anything intresting to say, so I'm going to draw attention away from my lousy blog posts to say:

read this blog: Thursday is Bazzar Day

That is all.

Planning for the future, or at least pretending to

I have a guilty pleasure I indulge in sometimes. I go in waves, not indulging for weeks at a time and then all at once, hours have gone by while I sit over my obession. This is one of those weeks where I spend hours. Mostly, I look on the internet. It's fast and easy and I can indulge my fantasies without spending a penny. This is my porn. Isn't it lovely? Just decedant at 850 sq feet per person in my family. I'll never own a million dollar home (unless the US dollar somehow ends up with the same buying power as a Mexican Peso,) but it's fun to dream about it.

I love looking at home plans. I'll look at luxery homes (like this,) and budget homes, and modern homes (I adore this one. the floor plan is so practical and perfect and the whimsy of combinging the two styles totally works for me.) I even spent time yesterday looking at house plans for straw bale homes.

Yes, straw bales. You use them for the outer walls. It gives an impressive R value, is very cheap to use, is easy to aquire, and is a completely renewable resource, not to mention the very cool deep window sills all over the house. :) There are some gorgous homes out there designed for straw bales. google it.

I just love residential architecture in general. I would love to go to parade of homes, but I never manage it. It's a date thing to me. Can you imagine hauling five kids from house to house just because you feel like looking? Of course, there is the problem that once you've seen one cookie cutter tract house you've seen them all, so Parade of Homes are often not as cool as I'd like them to be.

Someday, Steve and I will build a house. We don't know what it will look like or how much money we will have to build. If we have a lot of money, we will hire an architect and buy a beautiful lot on a hillside. We'll build a house that's basically a part of the hill, building back in with tall windows and passive solar heating. I can picture it in my head. It will be long and narrow with a modern feel that gives a nod to Frank Lloyd Wright's Prarie style. Two levels. doesn't it sound lovely?

If we don't have a lot of money, we will buy a stock plan that hopefully looks nothing like what everyone else is building but it will probably be like naming your kid Ava, not nearly as unique as it sounds. Although this home would make me very happy even if all my neighbors had it.

Someday we will build and it will be either off the grid, or luxurious, or adorable, or a victorian, or a craftsman, or a tudor, or French Provincial (the real thing, not the stuff they just call French provincial) or georgian, or colonial, or . . . . it will be a house. And it will be a house I love . . . I hope.

Stubborn

no, not me. Libby. Yesterday afternoon I decided to make bread the old fashioned way: in my Kitchen Aid. I had just gotten the bread into a warm oven to raise when Libby came bolting through the kitchen. She slammed on the breaks when she caught the sight of the mixing bowl.

"cookie dough?" she weedled, with big puppy dog eyes. The mixer being out only means one thing to her.

"no. I didn't make cookie dough. do you want a cookie?"

"No, cookie. coooooookiiieeeee doooooooough!" she wailed.

"no. there isn't any cookie dough."

"cooookie dough." and her eyes squinted up and the crocidile tears streamed down her face.

"no. I didn't make cookie dough. I made bread."

"bread?" the tears stopped and her face brightened.

"we're out of bread. I'm making some but it's not done yet."

"bread!"

"bread all gone. Have a cookie."

"no cookie. bread."

"no bread. There. is. no. bread. it's all gone. do you want a cookie?"

"cookie dough!"

"no cookie dough. have a cookie, for pete's sake!"

"cookie?" and she reached up and took it and walked off happily.

That folks is why I'm tired all the time.

Taking my husband's background into consideration

Joshua: Why does the oven timer say 23 minutes?

Me: Because that's when the house blows up. (Yes, I am that type of parent)

Family discussion about bombs and home evacuation ensues and then degenerates to Joshua's discussion about how he would diffuse the bomb.

Me (to Steve): So when you diffuse a bomb, do you cut the wire giving power to the bomb or the one leading away?

Steve: I don't do either. I just run.

Me: how many bombs have you been around?

Steve: ummm . . . .

Me: Not counting the ones you and your brother's built.

Sigh. He's not a terrorist. He was just a bored teenage boy in a rural town with four brothers.

Forget purse obsession, we will now discuss cake pan obsession

I did it. I bought another Williams-Sonoma cake pan. This one is a castle pan:

totally cute, isn't it? Because it's a castle, I actually have more uses for it than the train cake pan. I have two girls who love princesses and two kids who love Hogwarts. What Matt likes doesn't count because he's stuck with the train cake until he's 16 and the cost per use has dropped to a level that doesnt' make me cringe. (because I'm a weird person that figures costs per use on things. This is why I don't own a swiffer. I couldn't bring myself to sweep my floor if I knew it was going to cost me 50 cents a day.) anyway, that's what he gets for liking trains at a time when W-S made a pan for it.

Rilla had a birthday this week. This was how I justified the castle purchase, of course. I intended to make her a princess cake. It came out like this:

so yes, the designers at W-S do a much better job, but Rilla liked it. All the funky green is my attempt at landscaping. Now you know what my yard looks like, only with fewer flowers.

Sarah and I joked about making Joshua a Hogwarts cake in honor of book six. Lego Harry and Snape would be up at the top of the north tower and poor Dumbledore would be all splat at the bottom. I would, however, refrain from using red frosting for that. That would be just tasteless.

Friends

I have this problem keeping friends. I have no clue why, I guess people just get tired of me after a year or two. Or maybe I just have unrealistic expectations. I get a little twinge of jealousy when I hear women get teary eyed when they talk about the woman who's been like a sister to them for 20 years.

yeah, not even close here. I have had maybe two or three friends in my entire life who considered me their best friend, at least that's what they told me anyway. I have had friends where that person was my best friend and I was most definitely not theirs and let me tell you, that's a pathetic, sad possition to be in.

Lately I've been really thinking about what I want in a friend in the first place. I had a friendship go sour this last year and it's made me stop and reevaluate what I was doing.

1. I want a friend who wants to talk to me as much as I want to talk to her. I want her to pick up the phone when I call (and how pathetic is it that I even have to specify that?) I want her to stop for a second in her day and say "I really want to talk to Amy." and then call me herself instead of waiting for me to call.

2. I want a friend who takes equal responsibility for the health of the friendship. I'm tired of it all being on my shoulders. Which has happened to me more than once. It's hard to continue a friendship when you get the feeling that your friend wouldn't miss you that much if you just stopped calling. and it's really sad when you stop calling and they don't, in fact, miss you. or call you themselves either.

3. I want a friend I can trust. One who doesn't talk about me behind my back. One who doesn't see me as competition or expects me to be the president of the fan club. I will cheer my friends on but I won't do that.

4. I want one I can be honest with. Not one who doesn't want to listen (or talk to me) when I disagree with her. It's not a matter of loyalty, it's a matter of me being a different person and having different ideas. It's ok. I can still be friends with someone I don't agree with 100%.

5. I want someone who wants to hang out with me and talk to me and really wants to be my friend. that's it. I want a friend who wants me as a friend.

How hard is that?

Harder than I ever thought it would be. I have given up on having a best girlfriend. I have Steve and he is all those things for me and more. He gets excited to hear my voice on the phone. He cheers me on when I have good things happen. He wants to spend time with me. He is my best friend.

Maybe that's one reason why I have such a hard time with friends. Steve is a hard act to follow.

He'd be thrown out of Circus Circus

Steve and I really love Smallville. We get it from Netflix and have never watched Smallville during the regular season schedule, which means we are a season behind and know nothing of what's going to happen in episodes that come after whatever disc we are watching at that time. The other night we were watching the last disc of season 4, when Steve again declared his pet theory that the writers would kill off Chloe, one of Clark Kent's best friends. This is not a theory I subscribe to, so I scoffed at him. He said, "alright, I bet you she dies by the end of season four." I jumped at the offer and we decided on an agreeable wager.

I was, of course, right. Steve was somewhat put out that I won that one.

Two nights later, I came home from a church activity and Steve offered to watch Smallville with me. We had the first disc of season five by then. We settled in for the second episode and Steve turned to me. "Double or nothing . . . Clark dies." he declared with the air of someone who's pulling a theory out of thin air. I jumped at that bet. Who would believe that Clark dies? Clark is Superman for pete's sake. He's the main character. No show kills off the main character.

And this I believed whole heartedly right up until the moment that Clark gets shot in the stomach. At the end of season four he had given up his powers to be normal, so the bullet does the same damage it would to any human. I was in shock, not because of the plot, but because my husband had called it. He sat gleefully at the other end of the couch watching me. "they aren't going to kill off Clark. That's stupid. He'll have to have a last minute recovery." "So if he flatlines, does it count." "yeah, if the doctors call it, it counts." and two minutes later, Clark flatlines and the doctors call it.

No way. Shocked. I tell you. shocked. Steve is practically jumping up and down on his end of the couch laughing. "how did you guess that?!"

"oh, well, I watched it while you were gone looking for something you would bet against."

I threw a pillow at him. And I still won the bet.

cheater.

Beware the Placemat Purse

Most of my life I've done the perfectly practical thing of carrying just one purse. I buy some bag that's less than $20 and is small to medium, always brown leather. They are, of course, simple and practical and only contain exactly enough to get my by.

But deep down I've had a little purse envy. It's fun to have bags to match your outfits. I knew this about myself, but I had no idea what I had unleashed with the placemat purses. I have two now, by the way, in case you missed that. I would change them according to my outfit and I was proud to carry them. Window shopping for fabric has become a pasttime of mine. Fabric.com carries Amy Butler fabric and someday I will finally decide which pattern I want for my library bag. Amy Butler used to be my choice for a church bag, but my oldest sister carries a leather bag and it's beautiful. I've been leaning that direction this last week or so.

A lovely natural fiber purse with red patent leather trim was added to my collection last week, along with a new wallet to facilitate purse switching. I seem to have also picked up the habit of carrying things like a fold up hairbrush (which will get hair elastic added to it soon) a nail file, lip gloss, and a small pad of paper, all of which does not facilitate purse switching but does facilitate daily life.

I've also taken to sketching purses I'd like to make. Fabric ones, leather ones, it doesn't matter. I always have such a hard time finding exactly what I want, I think it would be fun to make it.

So if you happen to know a good place to get baby pink leather by the square foot, let me know. ;) (I'm serious here. I've had a terrible time finding it. and I neeeeeed a pink purse. It's a sickness. )

Off Playing

this is my sisters. I spent five days with them this week. We chatted, we laughed, we shopped (of course we shopped) we just hung out. I couldn't have asked for a better break. I came home refreshed and ready to be a better mom and wife and, I think, closer to my sisters.

Three of us took a car trip to Vancouver, WA. A long drive made shorter by good company and the grand invention of books on tape. Saturday and Sunday were mostly hang out days. We played Pollyanna (I didn't win. I very seldom do) we chatted and read books.

Monday was our big trip to the coast. We started out by making a stop in Beaverton, OR at a huge Japanese grocery store. The place was bigger than my local Albertsons. So fun! I picked up some curry and a box of Hawaiian Host chocolates. I haven't had those since I left BYU-H. After that, we headed to Cannon Beach. We had lunch at Mo's (chili in a bread bowl for me) and were lucky enough to snag a table by the window. There was a man flying a ship kite outside my window. I snapped a picture because I thought it was a very unique kite. I loved sitting there and watching the kite flyers and getting to watch the ocean while I ate. The food was good, but the view is incredible. After lunch, we walked from Mo's to Haystack rock.

The hike there seemed short. We visited and laughed and teased each other. Expressed general sympathy for women who didn't have it as good as we did. All the things good sisters do.

I took a bunch of pictures of the tide pools at haystack. It was a cloudy day so I didn't get the shutter speed I wanted, but some of them came out well regardless.

Right as we were leaving Haystack to walk back to the car, it began to rain. and blow. The walk back to the car seemed twice as far as it should have been. We were soaking wet by the time we got back to the car and I was regretting wearing the short sleeve top I wore because it was cute and not because it was suitible for a day at the coast in spring.

In Seaside, we went to the outlet mall. I ended up buying another purse. I seem to have a bag issue these days. We didn't head back to Vancouver until well after dark.

Tuesday, we woke up bright and early and headed to my sister's aerobics class. Dang. They exercise for an hour and that day the teacher decided to do step. My calves were burning for three days after that. I was also introduced to the fun of Sweet Tomatoes. Loved it! We need one around here.

We came home on Wednesday. On the way home, we stopped at Multnoma Falls. They are just gorgeous. The hike to the bridge is short and totally worth it. I took a lot more pictures than that one, but it's the ubiquitous shot and I liked it. (although I really wish we could have visited in the afternoon so the sun wasn't glaring at the top of the frame.) I won't bore you with the rest.

It's back to real life here. The kids had spring break this week, so they stayed at Grandma's house and it was sort of their vacation. I think Steve was the only one who didn't have a great week. Poor guy. He was happy to see me.

Terribly Practical Even at 16, or How I Wanted to Crawl Under a Pew.

My Junior year of high school I was assigned a seat in English right in front of a moderately cute boy with a wicked sense of humor. I had always been the perfect student (it's easy to not get in trouble for talking when your classmates are busy talking to other people,) but he would get me in trouble all the time. He told me jokes and poked my in the back of my neck with a pencil and basically paid my poor attention starved 16 year old self some much wanted attention. (I would like to break hear and point out that I don't think I was really any more pathetic than your average 16 year old. It is my contention that all 16 year old girls are pathetically attention starved. )

I fell into a long, deep pit of Like with him quite quickly. I hung around with him and became what I thought was friends. He never really asked me out and I never came right out and told him how much I Liked him. I was actually quite good at hiding my feelings, honestly, because I had a good friend that had no idea 7 months into the school year. Eventually, however, the word managed to get passed around and he cut me cold starting at the beginning of Senior year.

It hurt but since I never claimed even to myself to love the boy, I got over it moderately quickly. (I was a painfully practical girl even at 16. I knew for a fact that few people actually married their high school crushes and that it's indeed hard to have a relationship with someone you can't even get a date with much less a kiss from. Therefore, it did me no good to Love. So I did the next best thing and Liked instead. See? Painfully practical.) Nevertheless, I did at the time maintain fantasies of being a professional writer someday and would often take my teenage angst to paper, leaving me with some truly embarrassing "journal" entries in which I pour my broken little heart out in the form of letters addressed to the crush. I got over the boy, but not before I stored my precious journal away for posterity in a box.

My first big mistake was showing these writings to my husband a few years after we got married. I had run across the notebook with the letters during a move. I read them again and I was cracking up over my overly emotional ramblings so thought I'd share. He got a kick out of them too. He also managed to file away the name so he could tease me about it for the rest of my life. (I try to tell my husband he's not my brother but he doesn't see what difference that makes.)

My second mistake was actually sitting in the row my parents saved for us at Stake Conference (large, regional LDS church meeting) on Sunday. Sitting right in front of us was my high school crush with his family. Three cute little boys and a wife that looked like a very nice lady. Out of the hundreds of people in that meeting my parents had to sit right behind them. sigh.

My third mistake was pointing out to my husband who this man was sitting in front of us.

"Oh really? ooooh Amy, do you want to go sit next to him?"

snicker. followed by my best death stare, which he is sadly building up an immunity to.

"Do you want me to go talk to him for you?"

I tried to stop him and he responded with the nail in my coffin: "hey, I read those journal letters!"

I came this close to pinching the two year old so I would have an excuse to leave the chapel. Needless to say I did not have a nice chat with my old friend after the meeting. It was a bit strained and akward. hmmm. wonder why. Maybe because my husbands voice is louder than he thinks it is.

The only thing worse than 16 year old idiocy is being reminded of your idiocy 16 years later.

Monday Menu

another week, another menu.

Monday: pot roast
Tuesday: chicken with cream pan sauce
Wednesday: Spagetti
Thursday: BBQ beef sandwiches and potato salad
Friday: ??? (I'm hoping to squeeze in a date with my sweetie)

Saturday morning I leave for a vacation with my sisters. Steve and the kids stay here. I'm really looking forward to the trip. This is the first time my sisters and I have done a get a way like this and I don't see when we will do it again. This one will involve a day trip to the OR. coast as well.

The Best Kind of Hand-me-downs

This yellow dress is my yellow dress. My mother made it for me when I was a toddler. The flowers around the bottom are all hand cross stitched. (you can tell I was born in the 70's can't you?)

Libby is the fourth little girl to wear this dress. I have pictures of Sarah and Marilla in it also. Somewhere there is a picture of me in it as well. I love that connection.

Monday Menu Day

another week, another menu. (which I'm coming up with as I'm typing this, which is why I'm doing these menu posts in the first place.)

Monday: ravioli with alfredo
Tuesday: beef stir fry (didn't get made last week due to last minute schtuff.)
Wednesday: chicken enchiladas
Thursday: Steak and potatoes
Friday: Soup and fresh bread (still need to decide what kind.)
Saturday: leftovers, pick up night

now I just need to print this up and hang it on my fridge so I remember. ;)

What to do with cream

I was reading a blog called The Lazy Organizer a couple of months ago and she talked about how she oraganized her fridge. She mentioned that she buys heavy cream in small quantities because it always goes bad before she can use it all. I get that. I used to totally hoard my cream and only buy it for special occasions. These days, however, I buy it by the quart and go through nearly two quarts a month. I thought I would post a few things that I do with it just for fun.

1. There's always fudge, of course. It's nice to have the cream on hand for that at all times. Deserts in general tend to call for heavy cream, if only to just have fresh whipped cream for the top. Surprisingly, I don't use my cream for deserts and candy that often.

2. Alfredo. The only way to do it is with heavy cream. I have two recipes that I use and I choose which one depending on how much time I want to spend on it.

version 1: 6 T heavy cream, 2 T butter, 2/3 c parmesan cheese, 8 oz pasta

cook the pasta and drain. toss with the butter then add the cream and cheese and toss to coat. This is my quick, side dish recipe. I use it when I want dinner on the table fast and I don't want to fuss over it.

version 2: 1 1/2 cups heavy cream, 2 T butter, 1/4 t pepper, 3/4 cup parmesan cheese, 1/8 t nutmeg (optional) 9 oz pasta

bring 1 c of cream and the butter to a simmer over medium heat. reduce the heat to low ans simmer gently until the mixture reduces to 2/3 cup (12-15 minutes.) off the heat, stir in remaining cream, 1/2 t salt, and pepper. while the cream reduces, cook the pasta in salted water until just shy of al dente. reserve 1/4 c pasta water, then drain. Return the pasta to the pot and add the cream mixture, cheese and nutmeg. cook on low heat, tossing the pasta until the cheese is melted, the sauce coats the pasta, and the pasta is just al dente, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir in the reserved pasta water (this keeps the sauce from congeling.) Serve in a heated bowl. This is the recipe I use when I am doing alfredo as my main dish. It takes a bit more fuss, but not a lot more time. I usually add grilled or pan fried chicken breast to this.

It's important to keep your butter the real thing and the parmesan the grated variety, not the powdered Kraft stuff. You can buy small triangles of Parmesan in the refrigerator case. It's usually right next to the Ricotta. It's not the best, but it's affordable and certainly better than the powder stuff. If you can get and can afford the good stuff, by all means, use it. I'll just sit here and be jealous. Traditionally, alfredo is used on fettuccini noodles. Their broad surface is perfect for the sauce to cling to. I find that bow tie noodles work well with this sauce, too, and they are easier for my little ones to eat.

3. My other favorite thing to do with cream is a pan sauce. Pan fry either pork chops or chicken breast in butter or olive oil (your choice and they each have their own flavor so work with whatever strikes your fancy that day.) remove the meat and set aside. Turn the heat to low. Stir into the pan 2 t flour, and 1/2-1t of your favorite herb (dried. if you have fresh it will be even better.) Oregono, basil, rosemerry, etc, all work very well. When the flour is mixed well with the oils and fat in the pan, add 2/3 c cream. Let the cream simmer up and reduce for a few minutes as you stir in the roux (that fat and flour mix already in the pan.) when it's thickened, pour it over your chicken or pork and serve. This is a very fast dish to make; less than five minutes after you pull the meat from the pan dinner is on the table. You choices of herb and fat change the dish, so you can shake it up and serve something different the next time you make it.

There are a few other things I do with cream, but for the most part, these three things cover it. I know that I don't have a huge readership, but I thought a few of these things might be helpful for someone. Have fun with it and get yourself some cream. ;)

Menu Planning

two posts in two days? I know! I'll bet you are feeling pretty darn lucky right now, aren't ya?

There's a food blog I read sometimes that posts the weeks menu every Monday. She's more foddie than I, so it's just mildly intresting to look and see what sort of things she'll be putting in front of her family that week. Mostly, I just think it's a great idea to get a menu up there.

Here's ours:
Monday: Skillet Lasagne
Tuesday: BBQ Beef Sandwiches (made with leftover roast)
Wednesday: Chicken Alfredo
Thurdsay: Beef Stir Fry
Friday: Homemade Pizza
Saturday: leftovers
Sunday: Beef Roast

Now I just have to stick to it. ;)

The Trouble with Parking

Saturday night Steve and I headed out for a date. It wasn't going to be a long one because we left Sarah in charge. Since she hasn't done much in the way of babysitting, we left after bedtime and after the youngest ones had already fallen asleep. This meant that nothing was open except Coldstone (gotta love small town life.) We got our ice cream and then took it up the hill to this great overlook a few blocks from our house. It's on property owned by the city so there's all these "no trespassing" signs but they are easy to ignore because it's a really good spot to sit and talk with a fabulous view of the valley.

So we get up there and NPR is playing smooth jazz and the moon is full. It was lovely and we were having a great talk about our busy week and some plans we are making (along with a few obligitory jokes about "parking" followed by the obligitory kiss) when the car dings at us. We had been sitting there for 20 minutes with the radio running and the heater fan going (no idea why, because the car wasn't running so the fan was blowing cold air.) Steve immediately tried to start the car. It groaned at him, quietly though because there wasn't enough power to groan loadly. We had drained our battery on NPR Jazz. It was for a good cause though. Parents of five don't get out much. I have no clue why the car didn't ding before the battery was too far gone to restart the car.

Luckily we were three blocks from home. Not so luckily I was wearing date shoes, three inch wedges that look adorable on but are not so adorable to walk in. I was also wearing a light jacket when the temp was in the 30's. We trudged down the hill on the lovely rutted dirt road laughing about how we were very glad we didn't have to tell anybody's father we ran down a car battery "parking."

We got the van, jumped the car, and I drove the van back to the house while Steve followed in his car. I hopped in and we went for a drive to get the battery charged back up. All in all, the date lasted twice what we planned on it lasting because of our little car mishap. We were also very glad our favorite hill was so close to home.

I think we have learned our lesson on that one . . . next time we go parking we'll take a battery powered radio instead of using the one in the car. Steve's got a set of speakers for his MP3 player anyway. Maybe I can get him to put together a parking playlist. ;)

Catching Up

So, yeah. I haven't written in a while. Life got kind of busy. Steve was gone to a conference for three days and it just so happened to be three days that got very busy for me. Before that we were working on the house and buying cars.

Plural. We bought two. I now drive every day a beautiful 2005 Grand Caravan. Navy Blue. it was a good deal, so we splurged a bit. Steve drives a 2001 Buick Regal. Grandpa Brown. Yes, I tease him about driving a grandpa car. We were looking for a compact that got great gas milage when we found that one. It actually gets 30mpg, so it's respectable and better than the van he was driving.

I was going to post pictures of the new van, but I haven't taken any yet. I'm quite proud of it though. It's so nice to drive in a pretty car every day rather than a beater. The car I had been driving around was a 1990 caravan (no grand) in gun metal gray peeling paint that had be spray painted to keep the rust off. The paint didn't quite match. It was paid for, however, and that counts for a lot in this house.

In other news, I've been crafty. I finally finished Rilla's stocking:

If you click on the picture, you should get a big version that will let you see details. This silly thing took hours, and let me tell you, by the end I was done, done, done. I'm beginning to think that cross stitch stockings are my own personal form of self torture.

So of course I needed to do something just for fun:

This is a placemat purse, and yes, that means it was made with a placemat. I added ribbon (that does match in real life) and seed beads. The Seed beads and the beaded handle I bought already strung together so don't go getting too impressed. ;) It only took a couple of hours to put it together including the hand sewing of the seed beads onto the purse. I have another one I'm going to work on this afternoon. These suckers are fun. I may have to set up an Etsy shop to sell them just so I have an excuse to make them.

The Dangers of Exposing Young Children to Disney:

Libby combed her hair with a fork at dinner last night.

Little Blue Box

This little blue box:

see that messy desk underneath it? that's proof that it's mine. UPS dropped it off for me yesterday afternoon and it sat there posed and pretty all afternoon. I did get that little giddy feeling seeing a blue box in my house.

Steve saved for nearly two months to buy this for me. He saw it at Christmas time when finances were getting tight. Oh, you want to know what was in it? Just this:

Pretty huh? It looks even better on. It's from Tiffany's Frank Gehry collection. Steve knows I love Gehry's architecture. He says it's to represent all the things he knows I dream about and that he would love to get for me but can't right now.

I love my husband. He did good.

Been Crafty

A friend of mine told me about a cute purse she bought the other day made out of little girl's pants. sounds weird I know, but I had to try it. I made one for Sarah.



Here she is with her new haircut too. it's not the most flattering picture of her, but she looks cute with the shorter hair. She's so happy with her purse she carried around all afternoon yesterday and took it to school today. She also helped a bit with the sewing part.

Summer Vacation

we figured out our summer vacation plans this morning. Yes, those plans were made because of the Harry Potter book 7 release announcement. My oldest sister is even more into HP than I am (shocking I know) and we made plans with the last book that we would go to the last party together. I'm so excited! We'll go early in the week and have fun putzing around the porland/vancouver area, seeing the zoo and Omsi and finish up with the HP party.

So if you are going to be at Powell's bookstore in Portland, OR for the release party, say hi. ;)